


Tell, Don't Show

by Masked_Man_2



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous Gender, Anger, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Breakup, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotionally Repressed, Established Relationship, Experimental, F/F, Female Protagonist, Female Relationships, Femslash, Fluff and Angst, Freeform, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Lesbian Character, Miscommunication, Morally Ambiguous Character, One-Sided Relationship, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Fiction, Post-Relationship, SO DAMN MUCH, Sarcasm, Self-Reflection, Text Dialogue, Text Icons, Texting, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension, breaking up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13086051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masked_Man_2/pseuds/Masked_Man_2
Summary: "I thought breaking up with you would be easy."





	Tell, Don't Show

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based off a true story, detailing the breakup of my first and only relationship. All of the texts are directly transcribed from the conversations we had in the days before the breakup, and the italicized sections are cut [from a piece I wrote on Deviantart](https://flute-maniac.deviantart.com/art/Breaking-Up-Is-Hard-To-Do-659869198) reflecting on it.

**1/8/17, 1:03 PM: Lol my roommate wants to watch a KDrama** **  
****1/8/17, 1:03 PM: I can't focus in this room XD** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:12 PM: Then go somewhere else XD **  
****1/8/17, 1:25 PM: Shush up** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:25 PM: Hey, someone has to be practical around here, and since it’s never going to be you.... **  
****1/8/17, 1:27 PM: HEY** **  
****1/8/17, 1:27 PM: Mean** **  
****1/8/17, 1:27 PM: Lol** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:27 PM: Not mean  
1/8/17, 1:27 PM: Unless you’re afraid of common sense ;P **  
****1/8/17, 1:27 PM: Yep** **  
****1/8/17, 1:28 PM: Terrified** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:29 PM: O, monstrous world! Take note, take note. O world, to be direct and honest is not safe! I thank thee for this profit, and from hence I’ll love no friend, sith love breeds such offense. **  
****1/8/17, 1:32 PM: You NERD XD** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:38 PM: B-)  
1/8/17, 1:38 PM: I’m debating going to the gym...but I’m hungry  
**1/8/17, 1:43 PM: Healthy person oh my god** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:44 PM: MUSCLES **  
****1/8/17, 1:44 PM: Dagnabbit** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:45 PM: What? **  
****1/8/17, 1:46 PM: Roomie teases me about how you're fit of mind and body and I'm a potato XD** **  
** 1/8/17, 1:46 PM: That’s so funny XD  
**1/8/17, 1:48 PM: #rude** **  
** *******

1/8/17, 11:48 PM: Remember my friend that made the joke about herself having been Desdemona in a past life, and me being Iago? We were talking about strawberries, and when I mentioned that I only like them when they’re not ripe, and she likes them just ripened, she made this comparison: “Uhhh, I don’t know...you hate strawberries, especially red ones, because it calls to mind the handkerchief. Also, you like strawberries the way you like people and events; unripe, weak, new and naive and unseasoned, almost there but not quite, at your disposal (oh my gosh, what am I saying XD). I like things when they’re ripe and full-bodied and sweet, though :)” 

1/8/17, 11:48 PM: I don’t know whether to be offended or to die laughing

**1/8/17, 11:51 PM: Both XD**

**1/8/17, 11:51 PM: I’ll go with die laughing ^^;**

*******

**1/10/17, 10:32 AM: Morning, kid**

**1/10/17, 10:32 AM: I feel sick XP**

1/10/17, 10:52 AM: Aw, I'm sorry, love

1/10/17, 10:52 AM: Why is that?

**1/10/17, 11:00 AM: I'm not sure XO**

**1/10/17, 11:01 PM: How are you? How was work? How are THE KIDDIES?!?!**

**1/10/17, 11:01 PM:(sent with Loud Effect)**

1/10/17, 11:06 AM: Aw, that sucks 

1/10/17, 11:06 AM: Also, aren't you in class???

1/10/17, 11:06 AM: The kiddies were rowdy ^^;

**1/10/17, 11:23 AM: Lol you go kiddies**

**1/10/17, 11:24 AM: I might be**

1/10/17, 11:36 AM: They're so cute; you'd love them :)

1/10/17, 11:36 AM: YOU PRAT XD

1/10/17, 11:42 AM: I'm having lunch with your roomies XD

**1/10/17, 12:04 AM: I know I would**

**1/10/17, 12:04 AM: Those bitches lol I don't even get to eat meals with you XD**

1/10/17, 12:17 AM: Because you have class and I have work, you twat XP

**1/10/17, 12:29 AM: All the name calling, SO RUDE**

1/10/17, 12:33 AM: You're just too easily hurt by my pet names ;P

**1/10/17, 12:33 AM: Pet names my ass XP**

**1/10/17, 12:33 AM: Ya bastard**

1/10/17, 2:06 AM: *devil face*

1/10/17, 3:27 AM: I'm freeeeeee

**1/10/17, 3:27 AM: Lol good for you, cutie**

1/10/17, 3:29 AM: Oi, I thought we'd been over the whole 'cute versus handsome' thing ;P

**1/10/17, 3:30 AM: I thought we concluded you're a lovely mix of both and I JUST CAN'T HELP THAT**

1/10/17, 3:31 AM: No, honey, YOU concluded that. I will never call myself cute, no matter how many times someone else does. I hate being thought of as cute. 

***

_ I thought breaking up with you would be easy.  _

 

_    I had been mulling over it for days, weeks beforehand. In the shower. After the times we spent together. At night, before I fell asleep, when you wouldn’t stop texting me no matter how many times I told you  _ good night, I have work tomorrow, don’t pout, I need to sleep _. Those days and weeks pushed me to depths of self-reflection the likes of which I didn’t even think myself capable-- funny thing was, though I hated what I found more often than not, I found truth regardless. _

***

1/13/17, 1:53 AM: Hey, I ground down on you today. You should consider yourself blessed. 

**1/13/17, 1:54 AM: Oh goodness**

**1/13/17, 1:54 AM: I do**

**1/13/17, 1:54 AM: So blessed**

1/13/17, 1:59 AM: Technically, there was no actual grinding occurring. I just straddled you...for a very long period of time. 

**1/13/17, 2:02 AM: True**

**1/13/17, 2:02 AM: Damn**

1/13/17, 2:02 AM: Damn RIGHT

1/13/17, 2:02 AM: I was about to say ‘damn straight,’ but...well, we’re really not, are we? 

**1/13/17, 2:03 AM: Well, I'm not in the slightest. Especially when you're on top of me XD**

**1/13/17, 2:03 AM: Oh, bad jokes. I’m gross. I'll go home**

1/13/17, 2:04 AM: ...Honey, you ARE home. Also, I didn’t even know you made a joke, so you’re fine.  

**1/13/17, 2:04 AM: XP**

1/13/17, 2:05 AM: What was the joke?

**1/13/17, 2:05 AM: I was making a poor joke about you turning me on**

1/13/17, 2:08 AM: How was that a joke? Someone pins you and straddles you, and it’s hard NOT to be turned on, I guess. That’s just a natural sexual move...granted, it’s a predatory one generally not used by females, but hey, you’re not with some ordinary female.

**1/13/17, 2:08 AM: Yes, I'm with a weirdy and a sadist**

1/13/17, 2:12 AM: I prefer to think of myself as a predator, thanks. Or a hunter. And you’re my foxy lady.  

**1/13/17, 2:12 AM: Oh lord**

1/13/17, 2:12 AM: A KNIGHT’S TALE

**1/13/17, 2:13 AM: Now you have to call me a fox**

**1/13/17, 2:13 AM: Because Heath ledger**

1/13/17, 2:13 AM: No, it was ‘foxy lady’

1/13/17, 2:13 AM: “A fox? Well, then a fox you shall be! My foxy lady!”

**1/13/17, 2:13 AM: Shush your face hole**

***

_ You told me once that you were not merely sensitive, but empathic: you could read the emotions of others, feel them as though they were your own. And yet...you could not read me. I was an enigma, a puzzle, a frustration...and I suppose that must have been enticing to you, in a way-- as much as my ground state of cool, calm rationality was enticing to the part of you that would be buffeted and swept off your feet by the emotions of others. The part of you that hated losing control.  _

 

_ Did you blind yourself to my emotions, I wonder? Or was I truly such a mystery to you? _

***

1/13/17, 2:19 AM: I’m about to move to my bed, and therefore must bid you good night 

**1/13/17, 2:19 AM: ☹**

1/13/17, 2:22 AM: What did I tell you about the bloody faces, you arse?!  

**1/13/17, 2:22 AM: But but**

**1/13/17, 2:22 AM: Hey hey hey hey**

**1/13/17, 2:22 AM: Love <3**

1/13/17, 2:23 AM: Not dignifying any of that with a reciprocal response 

**1/13/17, 2:14 AM: But I love you**

**1/13/17, 2:14 AM: Sorry**

1/13/17, 2:25 AM: You think I don't know that? STOP MAKING ME FEEL GUILTY FOR GOING TO SLEEP, and maybe I'll say it back to you one of these nights.

**1/13/17, 2:25 AM: Sorry Nevermind**

1/13/17, 2:25 AM: Don't you fucking dare apologize for no reason 

1/13/17, 2:26 AM: I would apologize for upsetting you, but you really do have to understand that some people actually SLEEP at reasonable times.

**1/13/17, 2:26 AM: I get that**

**1/13/17, 2:27 AM: I'm just being a butt, forget about me**

1/13/17, 2:28 AM: I'm unlikely to forget you.

**1/13/17, 2:28 AM: Yeah whatever**

1/13/17, 2:28 AM: Shut up

**1/13/17, 2:28 AM: K**

**1/13/17, 2:28 AM: Will do**

1/13/17, 2:29 AM: Fuck you. I didn't mean it, you great booby. 

1/13/17, 2:30 AM: Forgive me 

1/13/17, 2:30 AM: This is why we can't talk

**1/13/17, 2:32 AM: There's literally nothing I can reasonably say to that**

1/13/17, 2:33 AM: Which is an issue, but I suppose it's one that'll be a constant shadow over our heads

**1/13/17, 2:33 AM: Oh great**

1/13/17, 2:35 AM: Look, you can't help being overly sensitive, and I can't help being overly blunt. Those things aren't going to change, and they'll always clash. Arguments are inevitable, especially when we can't physically see the other person.  

**1/13/17, 2:35 AM: I'm aware of this. I've come to this conclusion many times.**

**1/13/17, 2:36 AM: That isn't even what upsets me right now**

1/13/17, 2:37 AM: What is, then?

1/13/17, 2:38 AM: And don't you dare say it's nothing 

**1/13/17, 2:38 AM: It's definitely something but it's something not worth talking about pretty much ever. Go to bed, goodnight**

_ *** _

_Really, I suppose I ought to be grateful that you couldn’t pick up on anything I was thinking or feeling, though_ I _could read_ you _so well. I’m a hypocrite, of course, saying that; you were the one to whom I_ decried _omission of information, writing it off as the worst form of lying. Not speaking the truth for the purpose of_ sparing someone’s feelings _was idiotic, I thought, for it would only hurt more when the truth was revealed in the end. And yet...and yet. That’s precisely what I did to you, isn’t it? I never said a word about those late-night musings, those misgivings, those fears. Those mental lists of pros and cons, those Internet searches of “warning signs of unhealthy relationships” or “breakup signals.” Daylight never saw the words that would give strength, purpose,_ life _to those thoughts. Daylight only saw the deliberate withholding of the knowledge of an inevitable conclusion._

_    It wasn’t inevitable to you, of course; sometimes I think that nothing was. It seems to me you think only for the present-- that the present is your future, your past an ubiquitous shadow clinging to your broad back like a frightened child, making you doubt, constantly, yourself, me, and everyone around you professing to be your friend. You thought only of the present and thus believed wholeheartedly in what was presented before you. That people were inherently good. That things that seemed to be going well would stay that way forever. That people would never change and never leave.  _

_In that regard we differed, past the point of reconciliation (never mind that couldn’t see it). I, eternal pessimist and cynic, long ago resigned myself to the fact that people and situations_ constantly _changed and moved on-- that rejection, betrayal, and disappointment were inevitable, even commonplace, and therefore inconsequential. You can’t be upset or surprised by something you expect, only pleasantly surprised if your expectations prove unfounded-- that was my thinking, anyway. Not yours. Never yours. You expected the good, and thus could not bear to be faced with the bad when it invariably reared its head._

***

1/13/17, 2:42 AM: ...You have got to be kidding.

1/13/17, 2:43 AM: Now I'm REALLY not going to go to bed until you just tell me, for once in your bloody life, the bloody TRUTH. Openness, remember? Honesty? Any of those things ring a bell at all?

1/13/17, 2:46 AM: Tell me in the morning, if you'd prefer, but for God's sake, don't bury the problem. How have you not learned by now that that only makes things worse?

***

_ I can’t put my finger on when, precisely, your optimism became more aggravating than endearing...but then, we differed drastically in nearly all of our philosophies, not just that one. You never seemed to be troubled by that, but I could not, in good conscience, remain with someone who thought it perfectly acceptable to hide her feelings if she thought them “stupid,” no matter that their expression had very nearly been begged for-- multiple times. Differences in views are to be appreciated, but such great disparities as these? How was I the only one to see something wrong with the fact that we agreed on almost nothing? _

_    What bothered me more than the differences themselves, I think, was that you would grow upset when they came to light. Actually, you would grow upset about a lot of things-- things that I and many others would simply brush aside or dismiss outright. I’ve garnered a reputation for both brutal honesty and cutting snark; I say what I think, and mean what I say. I am blunt. Ruthless. Impartial. Abrasive, even rude, if I feel the need. Vitriolic, but the vitriol is eloquent and cold-- entirely bereft of the flame of passionate emotion. I’ve found that most people appreciate that about me-- accept it, at the very least.  _

_ You were not one of those people. With you I walked on eggshells that existed nowhere else. I made the same mordant jokes, the same blunt remarks, the same impassive dissections of arguments and situations from the sides of all involved, and only you could not take them without feeling hurt. Every third word out of my mouth or off my fingers seemed to upset you, and though you would tell me over and over again that you were fine, that you were simply being sensitive and stupid, I could see how those things affected you, and I hated it. I hated knowing that I was the cause of your pain, no matter that it was pain I could not understand. Hated having to qualify nearly everything I said-- “that was a joke, by the way;” “that was a general ‘you,’ not you personally”-- in order to lessen the emotional impact of my words (often to no avail). Hated restraining my humor, or my vitriol, knowing you wouldn’t understand. Hated having to lie, by keeping so much unsaid.  _

***

**1/13/17, 12:48 PM: Sorry**

1/13/17, 12:51 PM: About what?

**1/13/17, 12:51 PM: Everything**

1/13/17, 12:54 PM: What?

**1/13/17, 12:57 PM: Keeping you up and causing guilt, sucking a lot, being so weird, fighting all the time, having emotions, my roommate said I shouldn't say I love you but I do it anyway because I'm stupid and that's my bad**

1/13/17, 1:00 PM: Okay, first of all, never apologize for being weird: weird is good. Also, emotions are natural, and it’s not your fault that I’m just a robot when it comes to feeling and expressing them. The guilt thing is...yeah, okay, that’s a bit problematic, but I didn’t have to make such a big thing of it as I did. Also, why shouldn’t you say that you love me?

**1/13/17, 1:02 PM: I don't know, we talked about it late last night and then right after....ugh XO**

1/13/17, 1:03 PM: Why did you talk about it, what, exactly, was said, and what happened after? You can’t be vague about these things, you know.

**1/13/17, 1:04 PM: I can be vague about what I want, actually**

1/13/17, 1:06 PM: You can, if you don’t mind being considered childish by avoiding issues, but that’s really your call to make. Never mind that your being vague also affects me, because I just brush off all the negative emotions, right? Right. I can’t be salty without feeling guilty, but you can be as vague as all get out and I won’t say a word. Nothing wrong with that picture at all. 

**1/13/17, 1:07 PM: Okay sorry I was just being an ass with that comment and I realized that as soon as I sent it**

1/13/17, 1:07 PM: Yeah, you were, and I’m not even going to deny that.

**1/13/17, 1:08 PM: Look, I don't need to be reaffirmed that you're pissed at me I CAN PICK UP ON IT**

1/13/17, 1:08 PM: I wouldn’t be, if you’d just tell me the unadulterated TRUTH

**1/13/17, 1:09 PM: She said I shouldn't say it because she doesn't think you feel as strongly for me AND I DON'T WANT TO ADMIT THOSE SORT OF THINGS.**

**1/13/17, 1:09 PM: There's your freaking truth**

1/13/17, 1:11 PM: I mean...look, you can’t deny that you have STRONG feelings for me. I’ve never been with anyone, never been in love, and I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. If I don’t feel as strongly toward you as you do toward me, it’s because I’m not experienced enough to recognize love when I feel it, or else am emotionally incapable of feeling that strongly toward ANYONE, which is probably true, and probably my own fault for having twisted and beaten flat my ability to feel. 

**1/13/17, 1:12 PM: This is why I don't even want to talk about it**

1/13/17, 1:13 PM: You want my freaking truth? I’m afraid of strong emotion. I’m afraid of tying myself to another person who might not reciprocate, or of tying myself to another person, period, because tangling your emotions in with someone else’s seems to lead only to hurt and betrayal in the end. If I’m holding back, it’s because of fear.

**1/13/17, 1:14 PM: I have the same fears, you know. Didn't hold me back.**

**1/13/17, 1:15 PM: Yet I still get hurt because I get to live in the constant doubt of reciprocation being reinforced by observers as well as you**

1/13/17, 1:16 PM: Yes, but you’re free with your emotional expression in ways that I’m NOT, never HAVE BEEN, and never CAN BE. You don’t hold your emotions back; you wear them freely on your sleeve and let people do with them what they will. I keep them locked away because that’s where they’re SAFER, and they’ve been locked up for so long that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be shown.

1/13/17, 1:18 PM: I’m sorry for making you live in constant doubt, and I hate myself for hurting you, even inadvertently, by making you doubt my reciprocation. However, I do not believe in love at first sight, and I do not believe that love, when it develops, is as immediate and passionate and all-consuming as you feel it to be. I think that love develops SLOWLY, over TIME, getting over bumps in the road and coming out stronger, rather than weaker, because of those bumps. THAT’S what love is to me, and maybe that’s why you feel I don’t reciprocate. It’s too early for it to have developed. 

**1/13/17, 1:19 PM: I'm just going to stop**

1/13/17, 1:19 PM: I’m sorry

**1/13/17, 1:32 PM: Can't be sorry for being yourself**

1/13/17, 1:33 PM: But I can be sorry for hurting you. What the hell kind of relationship would that be, with one person living in constant fear and doubt and pain? 

1/13/17, 1:45 PM: It's not fair to you, and that's my fault. Let me be sorry for that.

**1/13/17, 1:45 PM: Not like you can help it**

1/13/17, 1:55 PM: If I hadn't said anything, we wouldn't be hashing this out.

1/13/17, 1:59 PM: The fact that I'm consistently able to do nothing but upset you rankles. And now I'm practically avoiding you. How fucking big does that make me?

**1/13/17, 2:05 PM: I don’t know**

1/13/17, 2:06 PM: The problem lies with me. You have no part in it. 

**1/13/17, 2:08 PM: Yeah right**

**1/13/17, 3:18 PM: Sorry**

1/13/17, 3:20 PM: Don't be.

**1/13/17, 3:21 PM: Well I really can't not be**

1/13/17, 3:23 PM: How so? You haven't done anything wrong. 

**1/13/17, 3:26 PM: Well obviously I must have done something or I shouldn't feel like shit like this**

1/13/17, 3:28 PM: You haven't done ANYTHING. I upset YOU, and you have every right to feel like shit. I only feel like shit because I know what I've done, and I hate myself for doing it. You're the one actively getting hurt. 

**1/13/17, 3:28 PM: Well, I wouldn't have been hurt if I hadn't done something to provoke it. Whether through action, inaction or my nature**

1/13/17, 3:32 PM: That's not how that works. Being hurt is NEVER your own fault; it's the fault of the other person who failed to see how something they did or said, or something in their nature, would impact you. 

**1/13/17, 3:32 PM: Doesn't matter**

**1/13/17, 3:33 PM: Doesn't change anything anyway**

1/13/17, 3:34 PM: ...That's not reassuring. Dare I ask what you mean by that?

**1/13/17, 3:40 PM: I thought it was pretty straight forward. Nothing changes if you just decide to take the blame. It doesn't end the issue or placate anyone, at least not for very long**

1/13/17, 3:43 PM: I'm blind to matters of the heart, remember? I'd never have come to that conclusion on my own. That being said, though, I suppose we've come to the crux of the matter. Is this issue one that we can resolve, or not?

**1/13/17, 3:44 PM: No? Of course I can't change that you don't love me**

***

_    You often asked me why I didn’t trust you. It was because your view of omission as permissible made you keep things from me. How many times did I have to force you to speak your true mind, because you didn’t think highly enough of it to share it with me? I didn’t trust you because your sensitivity, your proclivity for becoming upset by the smallest of things, made it impossible for me to place any faith in your ability to act as a confidante.  _ _ I _ _ was never the one upset, and so  _ I _ was the strong one, the implacable one, the comforting one. I’m sorry, but one cannot be strong all the time.  _

_ All those times when I thought the guilt of hurting you yet again with yet another thoughtless remark would crush me, all those times when I considered breaking it off just to ease the stress-- could I have gone to you for advice, for solace? For  _ comfort _? No. I don’t think I could have. The truth would only have hurt you more. _

***

**1/13/17, 6:37 PM: This sucks**

***

_   I kept all of the letters you gave me, you know. All two and a Post-It half of them, tucked into a notebook screaming “forever is composed of nows” across its cover, strident white against soft, ink-smudged blue. “Just two kids getting to know each other,” you said in your first letter, and in hindsight I childishly, naively, foolishly wish that that was how what existed between us had stayed. “Crazy and clingy,” you said in your second, and I wish I had not blinded myself so wholly to the warning in the statement. _

***

**1/14/17, 3:22 AM: Alright goodbye**

1/14/17, 3:25 AM: ...Good bye?

**1/14/17, 3:26 AM: Oh shit I meant good night but I'm very tired**

1/14/17, 4:00 AM: I thought so, but it never hurts to make sure. 

1/14/17, 4:02 AM: Though I wouldn't blame you for saying good-bye. I would, if I were you. I'm not, however, so you're free to do as you like.  

**1/14/17, 5:15 AM: I'm confused....are you telling me never to talk to you again?**

**1/14/17, 5:16 AM: In my situation you would? Do you seriously want to end things like this? I'm very tired, confused and I think rightfully scared**

1/14/17, 8:40 AM: I'm saying that if I were in your situation, I'd be done with me, so I wouldn't blame YOU for feeling the same way. 

**1/14/17, 9:15 AM: Well I'm not done with you WOMAN**

1/14/17, 9:46 AM: To your detriment, that 

**1/14/17, 9:47 AM: Why**

**1/14/17, 9:47 AM: Stop being so damned down on yourself**

**1/14/17, 9:51 AM: If you ever want to get rid of me all you have to do is just say so. I can't stay around and just make you sad when I want so damn badly to see you happy**

1/14/17, 10:34 AM: And I can't leave you when doing so would only break your heart, possibly beyond repair, though I find it difficult to place myself in such high esteem in your eyes. 

1/14/17, 10:35 AM: I don't want to get rid of you. What I DO want to get rid of is this constant cycle of fighting and upsetting one another. 

1/14/17, 10:53 AM: You understand where I'm coming from?

**1/14/17, 11:10 AM: Actually I'm kind of confused**

1/14/17, 11:40 AM: In what way?

**1/14/17, 12:53 PM: Do you feel trapped**

1/14/17, 1:15 PM: No

**1/14/17, 1:35 PM: Okay, sorry**

**1/14/17, 3:58 PM: I'm not going to stop trying right now, even though my brain says to leave you alone and make myself scarce, I can't because I care about you and I want to be with you**

1/14/17, 5:43 PM: I don't WANT you to make yourself scarce. I want us to fix this issue, which has escalated into something beyond the original issue to the point of me not knowing what it is, and move past it, by whatever means necessary. 

**1/14/17, 5:51 PM: I want that too but I don't even know what went so terribly wrong either**

1/14/17, 5:55 PM: It was the classic snowball. One thing led to another and things spiraled out of control. The question now isn't 'why,' but 'whether' we can bring things back or have to let them go. Yeah, I'm probably scaring you with my talk, but it's a genuine question we need to ask.

**1/14/17, 5:56 PM: Uh**

**1/14/17, 5:57 PM: I wasn't asking that question because I didn't realize it was that severe**

**1/14/17, 5:58 PM: So I guess you just need to ask yourself what you think…**

1/14/17, 5:59 PM: You also need to ask yourself what YOU think. I'm not necessarily saying it's that severe YET, but if things like this keep happening, there won't be a way to prevent in the future what can't be fixed now. Understand? 

**1/14/17, 6:07 PM: I guess I'm an optimist but I thought we could get past this, figure out the root of the issue and that would be it. I think the avoiding just came from how awkward we both are..And this big of an issue has never happened before so I don't know why we have to assume it'll be a trend**

1/14/17, 6:11 PM: I'm the opposite, so I'm only hoping that we can move past this, whatever 'this' even is. I'm not expecting anything, because I simply can't bring myself to do so, no matter how good the odds. I'm only guessing that it's going to be a trend, unless this issue is resolved for GOOD. 

**1/14/17, 6:22 PM: Then we bloody well need to talk**

1/14/17, 6:30 PM: Then talk. 

***

_Had I known, when we had started out, that what we had would progress, or rather_ regress _, so quickly and to such an extent, I’m not sure that I would’ve said yes that first time. Rain pouring down, the clock nearing, then passing midnight. Your eyes lowered to your fidgeting hands behind glasses that barred my lips from your cheeks so many times afterward. Your round shoulders hunched against the imminent blow of rejection, soft body and softer heart so ill-equipped to bear the burden of disappointment. You were the very picture of sorrowful contrition, of self-loathing and ill expectation poorly hidden, of forced acceptance of a foregone conclusion...how, I ask you,_ how could I _have said no? Even then I knew it would break you. Even then I knew I could not bear to be your executioner._

***   

**1/14/17, 7:15 PM: This isn't the steady, and comforting girl that I thought I was dating**

1/14/17, 7:16 PM: I'm TRYING to be steady and comforting, but it's rather difficult to be that way when I feel neither steady nor comfortable. No one can be strong all the time, and I'm not sure you realize that. 

**1/14/17, 7:20 PM: I'm well aware that people are vulnerable sometimes why the FUCK would I OF ALL PEOPLE not get that? I just didn't think...ugh**

**1/14/17, 7:21 PM: What I don't think you get is that sometimes emotions aren't practical and can't be handled as such**

1/14/17, 7:21 PM: What didn't you think? That I wouldn't be susceptible to the rashness of emotion, the way all humans are?

1/14/17, 7:22 PM: No, I don't get that. I hate the impracticality of emotion, and it's why I beat it out of myself in the first place.  

**1/14/17, 7:23 PM: I can't go on without saying anything I'll regret and don't really mean**

1/14/17, 7:25 PM: Just say it. I'll deserve it, whatever it is. Might cry a bit, idiot that I am, but I'll accept it as some form of truth regardless. 

**1/14/17, 7:25 PM: No fucking way because I can't bring myself to HURT YOU**

1/14/17, 7:27 PM: Nothing you say will be able to hurt me-- at least, not in any lasting, impactful way. One of the many things I've suppressed to the point of nonexistence in myself, is the ability to be hurt by people's words. 

**1/14/17, 7:27 PM: MUST BE NICE**

1/14/17, 7:27 PM: Besides, I've hurt you more times than I care to count. You ought to feel justified in doing the same to me.

**1/14/17, 7:28 PM: Well, I don't**

**1/14/17, 7:28 PM: Because I still care about you, and it's impossible to justify hurting someone you care about**

1/14/17, 7:29 PM: You're a better person than I am, then.

***

_I suppose that changed, as so much else did. It had to have changed. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Me who can’t remember dates, how is it that I can call your birthday so easily to mind, but not the day our two lives, joined together for the brief span of a month or several, were severed? Of course, I remember the situation, which matters more than the precise date anyway. Raining again-- why did it always rain when we got together? A Sunday; I’d had two performances, and you had a cancelled project meeting and homework you, for once, wanted to complete rather than avoid. A music classroom, filled with pianos; I’d been playing the electric upright waiting for you to come in. You sitting, tearstained face buried in jacket-padded arms; me standing, pacing, dragging my keys across the palm of my hand because I’d forgotten to bring a knife to take away the pain. Anger. Tears. Bitter sarcasm. Cold attempts at sympathy. Ill-timed jokes that reduced us both to gasping fits of laughter. The lists, marring the pristine whiteboard with my sharp, illegible scrawl, all of our problems set into words right before our eyes. Your expectations, almost foiled but ultimately met (and I’ll never say_ I told you so _, no matter how much I want to). My breakdown, the computer desk a comforting weight to hold up a body too weary and wracked with sobs to speak._

 

_    But speak I did. And so. We are here.  _

 

_I can’t bear it, really. The guilt. The fear. The selfish desire to pretend that there was never anything between us. I told you then that I wanted us to remain friends, but in my heart of hearts I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it, sensitive as you are...nor would I, coward that I am. Love, so I’m told, is not a thing so easily abandoned. I wouldn’t know, of course; I didn’t love you. Not in the way you loved me. I loved you as a friend, and hated ruining what could have been an interesting friendship with the emotional pressures and obligations that come with romantic labels. See, I can say that now...or rather, I_ should _be able to say it._

_ And yet...I can’t do that, either. That would upset you. There shouldn’t be that sort of connection between us anymore, and yet I still hate to think of upsetting you. I can’t even see my own friends anymore, because I know that you’ll be with them. You always are. Anyway, they like you more than they do me; you never believed that, but it’s true. Here they are sticking by you, not seeming to care that I’m no longer among them. And I can’t begrudge you that, really; who else would you confide in? Still, it hurts: this isolation. This exile. The bitterness of it almost makes up for the fact that even now, I can’t rid myself of the guilt of knowing that everything I do will cause you pain.  _

_    I’ve played the villain for so long that I’ve forgotten how to be a victim...though I’m not foolish enough to believe that I could possibly be the victim in a situation I myself brought about. Still, I’ll say it again; I’ve forgotten how to be a victim. Beyond that, I’ve forgotten how to be a hero; I certainly couldn’t be yours. I will never stop being sorry for that. I tried. Evidently I didn’t try hard enough. _

 


End file.
